


"You lovebirds catch up." (they do)

by notmadderred



Series: Daredevil/Punisher Fics [7]
Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Bisexual Frank Castle, Bisexual Matt Murdock, Dex Ships It, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Identity Reveal, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 08:29:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17505146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notmadderred/pseuds/notmadderred
Summary: “So, Red -- numbers?”“Too many to count properly,” Red replied.“Great,” Frank said. “Got a plan?”“A plan?”Bulls bumped Red’s shoulder, smirking. “You know. Thinking ahead on what to do once we find ourselves in this situation. A plan.”Red looked head-on at Bulls, the red eyes from the mask somehow exemplifying his annoyance. “I know what thatmeans. I’m just surprised that we were assuming Ihada plan.”Bulls released a small huff of laughter. “Heh.Ass-uming--”“Why the fuck did I agree to work with you two?” Frank snapped. His tone -- the low and menacing he usually reserved for the people he killed (and which often made them piss themselves) -- only made the pair of assholes he’d teamed up with smile broadly.“Dunno,” they both said.





	"You lovebirds catch up." (they do)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tball2000](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tball2000/gifts).



> a big thanks to tball2000 for the idea of this story! (sorry if it's a bit rough -- college is really laying it on me rn lol)

“So?” said Frank, looking to Red expectantly. “Do they have the girl?”

Red nodded, huffing a bit as tilted his head, listening. The guy’s bat-like hearing had never failed them before, so Frank was opting to trust him. Bulls, on the other hand...

Bulls was fidgety, hands drumming as he watched Red with a kind of intensity Frank would never want coming his way from the guy. Even by his standards, this guy seemed… unnatural. A weird kind of force that nobody, including Bulls, really knew what to do with.

“Stop that,” said Red. God, that voice was familiar. Frank was still kicking himself for not recognizing the man behind it.

Both Frank and Bulls responded, “What?”

“ _Bullseye_ ,” Red elaborated. “I can… feel you staring at me. It’s getting ridiculous -- it’s hard to count how many guys are in there when I can feel you breathing down my goddamn neck.”

Bulls sat back obediently. “Right. Sorry.”

Frank snorted, and Bulls immediately turned to glare at him. The kid was dressed in all black, much like Frank minus the skull on the chest. His face was familiar from somewhere -- maybe he met this guy while in the Marines. For all his crazy, he did have the tics of a soldier. “What,” said Bulls, and the tone left no room for question.

“Nothin’,” Frank replied, returning to face the building. “So, Red -- numbers?”

“Too many to count properly,” Red replied.

“Great,” Frank said. “Got a plan?”

“A plan?”

Bulls bumped Red’s shoulder, smirking. “You know. Thinking ahead on what to do once we find ourselves in this situation. A plan.”

Red looked head-on at Bulls, the red eyes from the mask somehow exemplifying his annoyance. “I know what that _means_. I’m just surprised that we were assuming I _had_ a plan.”

Bulls released a small huff of laughter. “Heh. _Ass_ -uming--”

“Why the fuck did I agree to work with you two?” Frank snapped. His tone -- the low and menacing he usually reserved for the people he killed (and which often made them piss themselves) -- only made the pair of assholes he’d teamed up with smile broadly.

“Dunno,” they both said.

“Who the fuck even are you guys, anyway? I coulda just gone in by my damn self and killed all these basta--”

“Kill?” Bulls offered inquisitively, head tilting like a goddamn curious puppy. “I could have killed them all, too, but we’re working on better habits.”

“Because killing isn’t necessary,” Matt said, and the slow, drumming rhythm his voice had drawn to suggested he’d repeated this mantra to Bulls many times.

“Wait, how do you guys even know each other? What is… that?” he asked, gesticulating between them.

As Bulls opened his mouth to respond, obviously not giving a shit about keeping things to himself, Frank stuck up a hand to stop him. “I take it back. Tell me later -- we need to take care of this. I’ll go for the girl. Red, Bulls, you--”

“I’ll go for the girl,” Red interjected. “You two both use guns, so it may be better if you’re the distractions. Loud noises shake things up.” 

So Red was trusting Frank not to kill anyone. How had Red even known for a fact that Frank had a gun on him? Not one was visible.

“I don’t have a gun,” said Bulls, raising a hand.

Red frowned. “Oh. I… missed that. Just… do your thing. But don’t throw any pens through people’s eyes.”

“Gotcha,” said Bulls.

“Wait, are you serious?” Frank interrupted incredulously. He looked to Bulls. “Was he serious?”

Bulls shrugged. “Everything’s a weapon if you yeet it good enough.”

“‘Yeet?’ The fuck do you mean, ‘yeet’?”

But then Red was off, parkouring his way across the building (fucking show-off -- and no, Frank definitely didn't stare at his ass because he was a fucking _professional_ ).

Leaving Frank with the goddamn lunatic. 

“Distraction,” said Frank. “We can do that.”

Bulls nodded slowly, all trace of relaxation gone from his posture as he studied Frank in full. “We can. Try to keep up, old man.” 

Then he took off as well, leaving Frank grumbling under his breath at the insult and making sure his gun was ready.

 

The take-down had gone off without a hitch.

No one was dead (whether or not that would bite them in the asses later, Frank was yet to see), and only two people were paralyzed.

Of course, they _were_ paralyzed, which apparently was a fact that bothered Red. Frank wasn’t responsible -- he didn't trust his bullets enough to sever the spine without sending shards of bone into a major organ, nor would he actually attempt that precise of a hit on purpose. It was stupid, reckless.

It was also normal behavior for Bullseye, apparently.

Red wasn’t happy.

“Both of them went through the vertebral canal and into the spinal column -- nothing fatal,” Bulls was growling. “Besides, they deserved it! They’re not dead! It follows your code!”

“It was dangerously close to killing them, and you knew it.”

“And you know that I never miss -- they’d only be dead if I _wanted_ them dead.”

“They could’ve moved last second to dodge those glass shards, Dex! Where would we be then, huh?”

Dex. Huh. Now Frank had a name. Or at least part of one.

Dex was shaking his head as his fingers gripped at his hair. “ _No_ ,” he said. “No, no, no.”

They were all on top of the building they just raided -- police had already taken the girl in. She was safe for now.

Frank could leave theoretically, but that would draw attention to himself. Besides, he was curious to learn more about Hell’s Kitchen’s new player -- Frank had seen more than enough from the guy to determine he’d never want to get on his bad side. Ever. Especially if he’d previously had a habit of killing people.

“Dex,” Red repeated. “Look at me.”

Dex did, his eyes a tad desperate. Afraid. But his lips were drawn back in a frustrated snarl. 

Red was unfazed by the animosity. “You wanted me to be your North Star.” The fuck did that mean? “You knew what you were getting yourself into -- if you work with me, you follow my rules. You want to do what Doctor Mercer told you?”

Again, what the fuck?

But Dex nodded, the motion quick and short.

“Good. Then you have to avoid revenge. I know you want every person to know what it was like when Fisk did that to you, but you can’t return the favor. Not when it’s leaking into something you’re supposed to be avoiding. Get it?”

Frank did not.

But his finger was still hovering over the trigger just in case this guy did end up snapping.

Instead, Dex nodded again, taking some deep breaths. He pulled his hands from his hair and leaned back.

Was Red a therapist? Frank didn't think he knew any therapists.

“You can put that down now, Frank,” Red said, and shit. This guy had eyes everywhere.

“You sure?” Frank responded gruffly, but he relaxed his hold on the gun nonetheless. “Dex here still looks a second from imploding.”

“Shut up,” Dex shot at him.

“You called me ‘old man.’ I’ll say whatever the hell I want.”

Red actually laughed at them. 

“What?” they both said accusatorily.

“Nothing,” Red said, but it was definitely something. “You know, all things considered, we did well together.”

Frank sighed, turning his gaze off to the side so he didn't have to look at Red’s smile, didn't have to feel his heart fluttering at it. “Guess we did, Red.”

Dex was silent again, his gaze shifting between Red and Frank in turn. Frank _knew_ him -- he knew ‘Dex’ and he knew that face. Where the hell did it come from, though?

And then there was Red. Daredevil. A goddamn enigma in the night who Frank realized he was starting to like. Hell, he’d agreed to Red’s methods. There was no way in hell he’d do that for anyone else.

“Would you want to do it again, Frank? See how you don’t have to kill?”

“We don’t know if it worked yet,” said Frank. “Those assholes may earn a get-outta-jail-free card from some higher-ups later. But sure. If you two fuckin’ crazy assholes need help, give me a call.”

“We didn't _need_ help,” Dex muttered under his breath. Frank and Red both pretended not to hear it.

“You had some questions earlier,” said Red, “about who we were and where we met. If you’re going to work with us…” Red clasped his hands behind him and bounced his knee once. Was he nervous? Frank had never seen the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen nervous, “we need to trust each other.”

Oh. That was why. But there was no way--

Dex stuck out a hand, his mouth forming another one of his goddamn over-confident smirks. Even still, he seemed ready to run if things went sideways. “I’m Benjamin Poindexter, but you can call me Dex.”

It clicked. Fuck, Frank _knew_ he’d heard of this kid before. “You were in the Army,” he said. “That fucking insane sharp-shooter. You joined right before I left the Marines.”

Dex’s mouth twitched downwards. He was still holding out his hand, but he was looking anxious now, the facade dropping. “You… you know me from the Army? Not from the news?”

Frank lifted a brow. “The news? Hell, I don’t know. I just remember hearin’ about how some of my buddies wanted you in the Marines. Said the Army wasn’t good enough for someone like you.” Frank finally shook his hand. “Nice to finally meet you.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” said Dex, tilting his head again. He was conventionally handsome, but that puppy-ish behavior seemed to soften him up enough to be approachable were he not covered in blood. “I’ve killed lots of good people since then.”

Frank blinked. What the fuck was that.

“Dex,” Red growled. “We talked about that.” He turned, addressing Frank, “I’ll explain… everything that happened later.” His tone suggested that he knew Dex would keep up with the ‘killed lots of good people’ version if allowed. Maybe as self-punishment. A belief he didn't deserve whatever-the-hell Red was giving him. Frank knew a thing or two about that.

“Sure,” said Frank.

Without warning, Red took off his mask and smiled wanly. “I’m--”

“What the fuck.”

Matthew Fucking Murdock winced. His eyes were landing somewhere abouts Frank’s chest. So was he blind? But then how the hell-- wait, was his hearing _that_ good? Did he fucking echolocate his way around and shit? What the fuck was this?

“Nice to formally meet,” Matt said because he was a fucking asshole. But god _damn_ it if Frank shoulda figured it out by now. Jesus Christ. Fuck.

Frank’s jaw had dropped just slightly.

“Close it, old man, before the flies get in,” said Dex, popping Frank’s mouth back shut.

Frank gave him another one of his glares.

Dex lifted his eyebrows. “Should I go? I think I should go -- let you two lovebirds catch up.”

Frank rolled his eyes. “Lovebirds? Real original, kid.”

Dex’s eyes flitted to Matt for a half-second, as if _he_ knew that _Matt_ knew what he was about to say. Matt’s sudden head-lift suggested Dex was right, but he still wasn’t quick enough to stop the sharpshooter from saying, “Oh? With the way he talks about you, I just assumed.”

Matt was squawking angrily at Dex, and Frank was undoubtedly wearing some horrified expression as he let those words sink in.

Dex winked at Frank. “Toodles!” he called before making his escape.

Frank was still blinking at Matt, whose face was flushing scarlet. “I-- sorry. Dex is like that. Polite when necessary but otherwise… ah.” He scratched behind his ear, mussing up his hair further. 

Frank shrugged. “With the way he stares at you, I’d be willing to guess he’s the one crushing on you.” But he was speaking without much thought because this was Matthew Murdock. Apparently, Red had been fighting his battles with Punisher on two fronts. God, he was too good a man.

Matt chuckled. “No, I don’t think so. He stares like that only when he’s assessing threat levels or looking to imitate behavior. He’s… complicated. He’s trying to do the right thing this time.”

There was definitely a lot behind those words (and a massive goddamn can of worms), but Frank’s main point of focus was now elsewhere. “So… what was with that parting comment?”

Matt grimaced. “Toodles? He was being ironi--”

“You know what I was talkin’ about, Red.”

Matt sighed, chin dropping. “I… I do talk about you, Frank. And I care about you. Dex, he… he’s smart enough to put two and two together.”

“And you’re a fuckin’ lawyer. I would’ve thought you could do that for yourself.” Frank had shoved his hands in his pockets, for all appearances looking confident.

Matt seemed to note something -- probably Frank’s goddamn heartbeat -- and tilted his head. “I… what do you mean?”

Frank scoffed and turned his gaze to the side. “I care about you, too, Red. Why the fuck else would I do somethin’ like this? This ain’t my ideology, and I sure as hell would’ve done it for anyone el--”

And then Matt was right in front of him, grabbing the back of his neck and kissing him. It was hot, fast -- over before Frank could actually register what happened.

“Sorry!” Matt said, stumbling back. “I shouldn’t have--”

Frank grabbed him by the plating on his torso and brought him in again, the kiss longer this time, slower. Meaningful. When they pulled apart, Matt was grinning. “I guess I should thank Dex for being such a mouthy dick later.”

Frank hummed in response.

Matt’s grin turned to a smile, and Frank’s heart still fluttered. “I heard that,” Matt said. 

Frank, immediately damning how all his suspicions turned out correct, frowned and said, “Fuck you, Red.” 

Matt drew a hand up, fingers grazing through Frank’s hair. “We really should’ve done this earlier.”

Frank closed his eyes as they kissed again. Yeah. They really should have.

**Author's Note:**

> The summary (and prompt) based on this (https://i.pinimg.com/564x/a8/59/93/a85993cc09f50fdaeb1377928f95d0d5.jpg) gem here
> 
>  
> 
> thanks so much to tball2000 for showing me this and multiple other ideas!


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